When the hand strikes Twelve
by MangoStarr
Summary: Nights on plastic beach, 2D and Murdoc.


Another day, another pain reliever. That was his mantra.  
>It wasn't always like this, of couse. Everyone remembered Kong Studios. All four of them as Gorillaz, their songs climbing the charts while they lived like rockstars.<br>Now, years later as 2D sat in his underwater room alone, it seemed as though it were all just a dream. Murdoc said Kong was flooded with zombies. Other times he said he burnt it down... it was always something new with him.  
>2D gave an empty laugh, lying down in his bed as he welcomed the pill's effects. As though nothing would find him or catch him, not even the whale that Murdoc payed to watch him. Or torment him, same thing he supposed.<br>The pills let 2D think without letting those thoughts make him _too_ upset. It numbed his feelings a bit. The only problem was sorting out the thoughts and then explaining them aloud, then that's when it sounded like one big, unintelligent mess.  
>But he thought about a lot of things- Like Noodle. What exactly even happened to her? He thought about different types of trash that might be on the beach, and pirates, and even walruses in various situations. He figured walruses were nice.<br>Lately, though, he thought about Murdoc. Nothing could take away these thoughts, and the sadness he felt usually broke through the power of the pills. It scared him to think of what it would be like if he weren't on a high.  
>Murdoc was as vicious as ever. Constant insults and beatings... he wasn't sure how much he could handle, to be honest. He said before that he'd stick by the bassist's side forever, through the abuse and the insults, but he was starting to doubt his decision.<br>He felt a tear slide down his pale, bruised cheek.  
>Murdoc was always finding new ways to torment him, and they got sicker and cleverer each time. It was like a game to him, all so he could get excitement other than the endless booze and drugs he had at his hand.<br>His beatings got worse, too. They were longer and harder... but what made 2D frightened was the fact that each hit appeared orderly and strategized. As though he planned out each attack beforehand for his own amusement.  
>Then, every night at Twelve o'clock, Murdoc would show up in 2D's room. Now if he wasn't awake by the time he got down there then the next day would result in endless torment. He had to learn it the hard way. Murdoc would then start kissing him all over and they'd have sex, whether 2D wanted it or not. Many times would have to force himself onto the younger man until he gave in and layed there like a worthless doll. Murdoc was rough and violent, sometimes even causing 2D to bleed from the sheer longevity of the sex. The pain, emotional and physical, was far too much to handle. He couldn't take it anymore, but there was nothing to do except wait.<br>Wait for someone to come save him.  
>Wait for Murdoc to get bored and leave him alone like before.<br>Wait for his next overdose to kill him.  
>He wasn't sure anymore.<br>2D sat up, looking up at the clock to realize it had been two hours and his high was coming to an end, and soon the hand would strive twelve. He tried to hold back tears but he couldn't be strong anymore, it was all too hard. Murdoc was his best mate and suddenly things changed after they left Kong, everything they had turned upside down. He even thought Murdoc began to open up to him, but that was all over and done with.  
>He let out a few sobs that sent a sharp pain through his entire torso. Why couldn't the pills just last a little longer? At least until Murdoc left...<br>He only then realized that Murdoc was back, that naughty grin on his face, his disgusting hands traveling over 2D's sore, half-naked body.  
>"Ello, love. Ready for another round?" Murdoc grunted, shoving his tongue into 2D's mouth. More tears fell, but Murdoc ignored his reaction and pretended he enjoyed it as he pushed him to lie on his back.<br>2D swallowed hard, weak sobs being forced out of his throat, clothes being forced off his body. He tried to imagine it was just another night with his best friend, that they were making love after confessing their feelings toward eachother, but it never be that way and he knew it. It was all the same violent, meaningless sex like before, and probably forever, trapped on the damn island named Plastic Beach.


End file.
